Model O Madness
by TyrantChimera
Summary: The reason the newest Mega Man rarely ever used her biometal was that whenever she did she'd black out, wake up in the middle of nowhere, and have some sort of law enforcement or raider group gunning for her hide soon after. Model O's cackles weren't helping matters much either. Today was going to be just another headache, wasn't it? Mild language and violence warning, OC.
1. Model O

She woke up with no idea where she was, dust in her throat and back aching and could only think, "Well this ought to be fun."

Model O laughed.

Clearly still out of it from whatever SNAFU had made her decide to use the biometal in the first place, the female Mega Man grudgingly pulled herself into a sitting position to observe her surroundings. The first thing she noted was that _good_, there wasn't anyone on her tail yet, no raiders or anything, and no bodies nearby to attract them. The second thing she noticed is that she was in the butt end of nowhere, probably why she was able to take her time viewing her surroundings. Sand drifted in a just-on-the-edge-of unpleasant breeze, the hot sun bearing down on her ruthlessly as its rays bounced off a parched, cracked wasteland spreading out before her. She licked parched lips, tasting a tang that told her she was probably covered in blood again. Sadly she was so used to it she couldn't bring herself to care. Hopefully it wasn't hers but whatever, she could deal.

"This memory loss shtick of yours is a pain in the backside," she grumbled aloud.

In return her mischievous biometal snickered at her misery, keeping to its usual wordless expressions of emotion. Honestly the unorthodox Mega Man wasn't sure if it was a good thing it never talked to her or not, because she wasn't entirely positive she'd want to know what it was thinking half the time anyways.

She grumbled again, getting to her feet. One of these days she'd probably be rid of the darn thing, but in the meantime its power was way too tempting, and useful, to get rid of. Even if it made her forget her own name and some of her past (she vaguely remembered a love of relics, perhaps she'd been an archeologist?), the thing had practically become a necessity for her. It was a vicious cycle. Wake up in some random location, go find somewhere safe to bum out for a few days or weeks, watch as whatever group she'd pissed off recently finally found her again, then use the biometal during their villainous (or 'justified', which were even more boring honestly) monologue and hope like heck the collateral damage wasn't going to be too bad this time. Plain and simple, rinse and repeat.

Honestly the little monster, currently giggling in bloodthirsty glee, probably wiped her memories on purpose to keep her in this cycle. Heaven knew biomatches for Biometal weren't all that common anyways, especially after some recent incident that she knew she should know more about but didn't. Truth be told she wasn't stupid. No doubt the end result of this crazy little cycle would be one empty-minded body free for the biometals' taking, and quite frankly at this point in the game she couldn't give a hoot what the end result was. She dusted herself off, picked a random direction, and started walking.

As her footsteps pounded against the rocky landscape benteath her, her partner-in-crime seemed to mull over something. She gave it as much attention as she could spare, the rest spent surveying the landscape for either enemies or a landmark to head to. What she wouldn't give for a higher vantage point right now!

Her attention was entirely taken, however, when the dark biometal did what she could only describe as _shoving _a thought at her. She had to stop, shaking her head in disorganized confusion at the unusual attempt at communication, because considering the idea now in her brain that was all it could have been.

A thought, a simple idea, and yet it clearly hadn't originated entirely from her. Biometals, to fuse, took a certain degree of energy, something that would run out rather quickly if the host (no, not host, _biomatch _you silly girl) couldn't stay in their normal humanoid form to recuperate. Model O was specialized for combat and utter destruction, _not _taking care of whatever normal human females required. Sadly the complete and utter takeover of her body would probably leave him (so it was a him, huh?) stranded somewhere again if he accidentally overexerted the body. Model O had spent _more_ than enough time stuck in those old ruins to want to avoid getting stuck anywhere else again, thank-you-very-much.

"Are you finally going to try getting along with me, then?" She inquired carefully.

Perhaps.

Well this was certainly an interesting way to have a conversation, as in _not_.

If she was getting sassy with him he was taking away _that _memory, remember that one you really liked?

She quickly got the point and moved on. The poor girl skittered across the landscape, antsy and unnerved, but more than anything, curious. Extremely curious. It was the first time the biometal had attempted to communicate with her, other than laughing at her or radiating extremely irritation whenever she messed up. Despite the possible dangers, she was _very_ fond of that one memory after all, the Mega Man was finding it harder and harder to resist trying out that mental bond that her and Model O shared, testing it even further.

"Soooooo... I'm your biomatch, right? But do you even like me at all?" Temptation unsuccessfully resisted. Oh well.

There was a good degree of silence plus a little annoyed amusement. As if it were intrigued and unhappy that she had_ dared _try to converse with it?

"Hate to say it, but there's really not much else out here to do. Seriously, where the heck is a viewpoint when you need it?"

How truly inconvenient vantage points could be. Pah. Oh well. Perhaps she had learned to be a bit more tolerable than when the pair had first met, no more of those pesky morals and freaking out over silly little... _accidental_ massacres.

"You probably just fragged my frontal lobe or wherever else my conscience was supposed to be located in my brain."

Okay, maybe that too. Although it certainly helped that she appeared to be almost amused by the whole situation herself. It seemed to think that normal people would be screaming or doing something else annoying and unproductive by now.

"Normal people are pieces of horsejitt. Just because they're 'innocent' doesn't make them nice or even useful." Heaven knows how much dung-shovelling and wasted effort it took for her to get funding for her digs every time-ah, yes, she most definitely had been an archeologist in her past. Come to think of it, that's why they had met? She'd been trying to prove that she could dig in dangerous places, even if that Area M place was _technically_ illegal to visit and it wasn't her fault that she'd found Area N right next to it and oh, what a pretty looking glowing rock that was actually a biometal who was a genocidal maniac, whoops! "Thanks for letting me remember the whole archaeologist thing by the way."

Yes, normal people certainly were useless it agreed. And well, he supposed he could let her have that much in the ways of memories. On that train of thought, perhaps she would like to remember a little more next time it took over? She wouldn't be in control of course, but at least she could enjoy the show when people started getting popped like balloons.

"Only if they aren't nice people."

Didn't she just say she didn't care about innocents?

"I also said that being innocent and being nice were not the same thing. But if they've been nice to me, try not to kill them, please? Directly or otherwise."

What a spoilsport she was.

"It's just that they might be useful to me again in the future."

He was starting to feel a bit proud of her right about now. What a long way she'd come! Not nearly as great as his original body, but certainly workable! His little harbinger!

The female hummed, "So your original body was pretty strong, huh? I heard biometals were designed after ancient heroes or something, so I guess it makes sense."

Model O was setting one thing straight right now; it was_ no_ hero. She'd be an idiot to think otherwise. Heck, it had honestly been programmed to serve the now dead Model W, thank the heavens and hells that dang thing was scrapped. Pre-programmed loyalty was s_uch_ a drag. The Mega Man berated herself for such a silly thought as their mind-linked conversation continued. Although, no wonder the old world had been busted up like this if the heroes had been that insane. Which they were. Oh well. Second thing the biometal wanted to clarify is that its original body _is _still strong, not _was_, thank you.

"...Hold on. You're still alive!? Is that what was further in Area N!? Then why are you a biometal?"

Too many questions. Decent ones though, it had to admit. If they were going to be working together now it made sense that she know more. Yes, Omega (oh holy biscuits she recognized that name from the history books no wonder she was so screwed right now) was still alive, but... well, even he had to admit a field of spikes was a decent deterrent. As for the biometal thing, a piece of his core (from one heck of a fight, mind you) had been cut from his body and landed elsewhere during an explosion (one _heck_ of a fight). That had summarily mutated over the years into a biometal, she'd found it and one two skip a few here they were. It was much easier getting to see the world through her eyes than try learning to fly, because seriously whomever invented spike pits would be shot once he found them, repeatedly. In the face. With fully charged shots courtesy of his_ fist_. That wasn't even starting to account for what he'd do with his sword.

"So hold on, the biometal was made with your core, and since you're still alive you could technically make more at any time?"

That was a thought. Both of them paused.

An army of model O users, all ready to follow the command of the original body, the devil reploid Omega...! And then the idea was summarily scrapped. Losing even a tiny piece of his core _hurt_, and trying to command legions of unstable murderous maniacs would be more of a headache than it was worth. One was more than enough of a hassle, and that was a good one that worked with him, even! Well, okay, the idea wasn't scrapped, it was more... saved for later.

Dear lord he was rubbing off on her, and it wasfun._ Fun_. Genocide should _not _be _fun_!

Clearly she'd grown up in the school of _boring_ then.

"Archaeologist._ Duh_."

Point taken.

It was getting to the point where one person's thoughts were melding into another's, although the pair didn't really mind. Throughout the conversation the two had continued moving, and lo and behold as they continued to compare notes a landmark soon came into view. She ran towards it, only a few clumsy mistakes and tripping on rocks occurring on her end, which she entirely blamed on the dry, dusty landscape obscuring her view. As the Model O Mega Man gazed around after one such ungraceful fall she thought back on their exchange.

"You said you were subservient to the Model W, right? If another one ever does show up, does that mean I'm going to have to obey it too?"

It thought for a moment. Oh dear, that was another good point. Well, just because he had to obey the Model W (Weil; wrinkled, crusty, _evil _old Weil and wasn't that yet another scary name for her to recognize) didn't mean it wanted to. If another one showed up it decided that her and it had best lay low (or as low as possible considering how many explosions they routinely caused), until some other Mega Man or something nixed the Model W. He didn't care if he could kinda actually open up cyberspace and retrieve his dead master if he wanted, that was one can of worms he was not opening up under any circumstances. He couldn't obey Model W if he didn't receive any orders from him, right? Not to mention that getting buried under a deluge of reploid souls pissy over that little Elf Wars thing would be a pain and a half (seriously, he hadn't murdered them all _that _badly, had he?).

"Wait. Cyberspace is real?"

Well of course! Where else did she think to souls of reploids and other data-based entities went when they died? Lots of the old heroes and reploids had gone that way, except for the ones that had been turned to biometals, like L, X, P... Ah. _Z_.

"I'm sensing some enmity?"

...Yes. Model Z. If Model Z showed up it was open season on his scrawny little backside, Model W in the area or not! That sucker was going _down, _downlike the_ Eurasia_. With lots of screaming, murder and world-rending explosions.

"The media is going to friggin'_ love_ me when this was all over, isn't it?" Sarcasm. Then again the media always loved a good, woe-be-us story she mused.

Better get your pose ready then, girl.

The pair walked into Hunter's camp after half a day of walking, running, and landing face-first in the dirt, a fact that both amused an irritated the reddish biometal currently hiding out in her back pocket. Although such clumsy actions did help remove the blood on her face, a good deal of the red stuff was just too stuck on. Instead the Model O kept itself half-halfheartedly sensing the surroundings for anything that might be a threat, the other half leisurely dozing off as she bulldozed into the nearest diner and demanded a heck of a lot more food that should have been possible to fit into her small frame. What people didn't seem to realize was that Mega Men had a surprising appetite, whether they wanted it or not.

Really, how she was going to pay for it all was secondary the the fact that she was bloody _starving_ right now! Literally! She was pretty sure her ribs hadn't poked out quite that much before!

She scarfed down the food as fast as it could appear while indiscreetly rooting through her many pockets, searching for some form of funds to pay for the meal with. Dining and dashing was always an option, but it caught too much attention too quickly for her liking and speaking of attention where was that darn handkerchief she could clean her face off with? People were starting to stare at the blood still on her features.

Luck prevailed, her old bank account cards still in her possession. She mentally thanked whatever deity there was that the things were not only there, but apparently still worked (oh, so the God of Destruction wasn't good enough now was he? No no, that's not what she'd meant!). As she paid the waiter and left she couldn't help but ponder why the accounts hadn't been frozen yet, after all she'd been missing for who knows how long and probably presumed dead if not a wanted criminal by now, because she knew for a fact that there had been more than one government after her head at some point.

Model O pleasantly reminded her that they couldn't be after her if they were dead, and that would have been a much more pleasant thought if she didn't know that Legion was probably smarter than that and would undoubtedly be rather pissed off if she'd wiped out a small country or two. Then Model O kindly told her it hadn't been any small countries wiped, just small armies, so no witnesses! Or at least if there were they should be smart (aka whipped) enough to avoid getting in her way ever again.

Right. Normal people being smart enough to leave her alone. Model O, seriously? Just think about what you said for a minute there and _then_ try telling it to me again.

Sassy, aren't you? But there was certainly a grain of truth in that. Suicidal morons, but hey, if they wanted to die so badly...!

Not until I've finished digesting please, stomach cramps are a pain.

Might not have a choice. Model O was picking up something as they walked, someone watching them from a distance. Perhaps the accounts hadn't been frozen but tagged instead, waiting for her to use them so they could track her location. Pretty smart since even she couldn't tell where in the world she was half the time either.

The pair walked leisurely through crowded areas, trying to keep their heads down, but to no avail. Their pursuer continued after them no matter where they went. The fact that half the crowds would stare at her or her pursuer and quickly vacate the area probably didn't help either.

In the end, tired of the charade she rounded a corner and stomped her foot down, turning to take a stand against whomever was following her.

That was when her pursuer her turned out to be none other than Atlas, the fiery female Mega Man who she honestly had kind of looked up to until recently for being an absolutely ruthless and powerful fighter. Oh dear.

"All right, who you done pissed off _now_, Model O?" She grumbled mentally.

Slightly sheepish, slighty insanely happy at the prospect of a fight, the biometal just did the mental equivalent of a shrug, shuddering in anticipation. She cracked her knuckles for him, clawing and grinning in glee even as she could feel him taking over.

The other female balled her fists in return. "So I heard there was some weird chick causing a commotion, and the next thing I know I'm running right into her. Kind of interesting seeing how scrawny she actually looks."

Atlas. Right. Now a national celebrity after it was discovered that she'd been controlled by Albert yet managed to survive the ordeal. Model O called bulljitt on that one, because there was _definitely _something up. Fefnir was being _way_ too quiet considering the devil reploid's biomatch was staring his own biomatch in the face and grinning.

"Hey, Atlas was it? I don't give a gack what you just said, because I know for a fact you wouldn't be following me on just a whim. Shall we get serious? Last warning, don't piss me off. I lose control of myself very easily. _Very_ easily. And quite _completely _too." Model O was definitely bleeding into her. For one, she knew her past self wouldn't even dream of what she was doing now, twisting and wracking her frame into a shuddering, grinning, twitching mess of insanity where her hands curled like claws and her entire body shuddered with glee from the sadistic emotions curling in her gut. She was coiled like a spring, a predator, ready to pounce. Secondly, not even a Mega Man's eyes should be glowing red like this. Not just glowing,_ illuminating _like a fire, because she could quite easily see the red light reflecting off of her ragged clothes.

A Mega Man. Another _Mega Man_. This was going to be... so good! An actual challenge! Something to bleed out and tear apart and _rip into a million little pieces_ until nothing but blood spatters and smears remained!

Atlas, for her part, tensed and eyed the pair (for they were a pair now, she couldn't tell where she, a humble female digger, should have ended and the savage biometal began; all of it was _destruction_). The flame Mega Man seemed almost to be rethinking her approach. Perhaps something about how little control the former archaeologist showed made her feel superior, made her feel safe about her opponent (because someone with so little control over their biometal couldn't possibly be that strong anyways, oh wrong, how very wrong), because the next thing she knew the other female had yelled "Mega-merge!". Now fully armoured the orange Mega Man aimed both of her busters at her opponent, determination on her features.

"Hmph, so weak! Letting your biometal boss you around like that! Pathetic! You're no better than an animal!"

"Aren't we all animals though? The rules of nature... predator and prey!" The destruction Mega Man clutched her torso, cackling loudly to the skies in psychotic, screeching wails for the pain and pleasure sure to come. "But who cares of such things! All I care is that one kills, and the other dies! Aaaahaaahaaahaahaaaaa!"

As if Model O would let her yell something so child-like as 'Mega-merge'. There wasn't a need for that. This vessel would do as he wanted, nothing more and nothing less!

In the back of their mind she watched her form _crack_, for lack of a better word, and in a flurry of macabre light and shattered reality the Model O appeared. It looked little like her, deadly armour covering her frame in red, white and black. A black visor with red lines covered her eyes, still glowing like the fires of the underworld. Her arms shot to the sides, destroying everything in their line of sight with a shockwave of lasers and shattered ground. Atlas now looked considerably less confident.

Insane red eyes darted around aimlessly, gleeful and merciless. They soon locked with the wide, shocked orbs of the flame Mega Man.

"I am the harbinger! Ha ha ha ha haa!"

The Model O struck.

* * *

A/N edited. I had a Japanese translation in there but it didn't want to translate properly so... meh.


	2. Bonus

Bonus I

Fully megamerged and thirsting for blood, The Model O biomatch leapt at her victim, caution and constraint thrown to the wind. A violet saber was drawn in a zephyr of death as she bore down upon her foe, snarling in feral glee.

That was when Atlas punched her in the gut.

The blow flung her halfway across the impromptu battefield. The Model O promptly dragged herself up, readied a counterattack, then thought better of it as its host's lunch (dinner, whatever the heck it had been) protested violently and she had to leap to a bush.

The resulting mess wasn't very pretty.

Done puking, she flopped to the ground nearby, groaning.

Atlas stared blankly, stupefied. "You just finished eating, didn't you."

A miserable whine was all the confirmation she needed to hear.

* * *

Bonus II

"You know how you end world inequality and discrimination?" The Model O Mega Man grinned.

Atlas frowned warily, "No...?"

"It's easy! Everything should be treated the same in equality, right? So you just burn _everything_! Mwa ha ha ha!" She promptly went on a pyromaniac rampage against the nearest group of mechaniloids that made Model F mutter jealously and Model O shed a tear of pride.

Atlas just groaned.


End file.
